


Love That Soft Dork

by Lost_Elf



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Comfort, Declarations Of Love, Established Relationship, Fluff, Good Boyfriend Hugo Vasquez, Handsome Jack (Borderlands) Being an Asshole, Idiots in Love, Insecure Rhys, Insecurity, M/M, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:54:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22829791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost_Elf/pseuds/Lost_Elf
Summary: Rhys learns that his idol, the legend he always looked up to, is a major asshole. His boyfriend Hugo helps make his day better.
Relationships: Rhys/Hugo Vasquez
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	Love That Soft Dork

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sasspiria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sasspiria/gifts).



> [Sasspiria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sasspiria/pseuds/Sasspiria) asked for soft Rhysquez, so here it is. I want everyone who ever said that I don't write nice things to say sorry. (JK)

Handsome Jack's birthday had always been a holiday on Helios. Not only that, but also a big public event. If you were lucky and productive in the past year, you got the chance to stand in a long line and maybe eventually meet the CEO in person to congratulate him and give him a gift.

That is exactly where Rhys found himself that day. Clutching a golden gift bag to his chest so much it crumpled, shaking nervously, but absolutely excited. The Eridium mining deal he helped seal this year gave him the right to participate in this event, and he came here early enough – three in the morning – that he just had to get to Jack.

The line was moving slow even though nobody got to talk to the CEO for more than a couple minutes, but he was already only ten people away from him. He could hear Jack's laughter as he made fun of a woman that was currently speaking to him. She took it in a stride, joking back.

Rhys repeated the lines he prepared in his head. _Mr Handsome Jack, it's pleasure. I admire you for creating all of this with your bare hands, climbing from nowhere to the top. My bare hands are only good at knitting so far, so I decided to use it to my advantage_. He could be funny. It was funny. Right?

Inevitably, Rhys had had some fantasies about the oncoming confrontation. Ever since he learned that he'll be there, he was ecstatic, and maybe he had thought about this a few times alone in the shower. Jack could find a liking in him, right? Rhys was a sight for sore eyes. He wouldn't accept any offers, but he could daydream, right?

Or, the CEO could ask him how did a middle manager get to this event, and he would tell him, and Jack would be like: "That was you? Impressing! Here, I make you a member of the board. Your salary is now multiplied by three hundred. I hope for your own good that your salary was big."

Rhys would joke back, and maybe—

"Are you asleep on my party, idiot? Move!"

The voice that snapped him out of his daydream was none other than the one he listened to every morning in PSAs, sometimes in the evening in the documents and motivational speeches… Handsome Jack.

For a second, it was like the world was in slow motion. His head turned in the direction of the voice very slowly, revealing the displeased face of the CEO. Handsome Jack was tapping his foot impatiently, looking Rhys up and down, and the ten people that had been between them were already gone.

Rhys gulped and panicked. His trembling arm shot out, almost hitting Jack in the chest with the gift. He stumbled for words, but in his terrified state he couldn’t find any, and he ended up just opening and closing his mouth, staring at the legendary man wide-eyed.

“A knitted blanket? And a pillow? Kinda awry, you should have made them give you your money back for the quality. Or did you buy it because it was cheap?”

“I-I-I m-made it, s-sir,” Rhys stutters, finally finding his voice. He wishes he didn’t, though.

Jack erupts into laughter. The gift falls from his hands as he bends over, clutching his stomach and gasping with tears of joy in his eyes. “Oh my god! You gave me a handmade gift, you moron?! Oh my— That’s _hilarious_! You know I burn all of them, right? Did you imagine, what, that I would use it for my afternoon naps and always think of you?! Oh my— Oooh, that’s hilarious!”

Everyone in the range of hearing chuckled and laughed with the CEO. Someone called out: “Is that Rhys? Oh, Rhys, that moron!” He didn’t know that person, but he could see an ECHOeye, and he made the connection. Butt-licking bastard.

“Reese? What kind of name is that?!” Jack bellowed with a new wave of laughter. “Oooh, are you crying? This day can’t get any better! Or maybe, hahaha, if you run out of the room crying like a hysterical lady. Do that for me, please!”

And Rhys did. Not because Handsome Jack told him to, but because he simply couldn’t take all the laughter any longer. He turned on his heels and ran out, determinedly willing himself not to wipe the tears off his cheeks until he was out of the sight of everyone.

As he was running to the elevator bank, he finally realised how sore, thirsty and hungry he was. He’d been standing in the line for fifteen hours, and they couldn’t bring any food or drinks, nor could they sit down. He handled it all well with the vision of the encounter in his mind, but now… he knew he was a fool and suffered for nothing.

The elevator was full of people, and the looks of pity and disgust they gave Rhys told him that his job of regaining his composure was pisspoor. He dared one look in the elevator mirror and quickly turned his head back down, seeing pink cheeks and red eyes, a runny nose. Pathetic.

How did he come up with such a stupid idea? You don’t go giving the richest man in the galaxy poor handmade gifts. Rhys was sure that the blanket was perfect, not awry, but maybe Jack had better sight than him, and it really was shitty.

As he walked on aching feet to his apartment, Rhys sniffled. He wished he could just disappear forever. Burrow himself in a hole and not think about it anymore. Maybe eat ice-cream.

But as he opened the door, he was greeted with Handsome Jack. Everything in that small unit was touched by the man. Hyperion yellow pillows on the couch, tablecloth with tiny loader bot motive. Glasses and mugs with Jack’s face, most acquired by joke from him or his friends, but kept and used regularly.

Walking into his room, Rhys saw even more. A few motivational posters over his desk, yellow sheets on the bed, even the alarm clock had a tiny figurine of Jack on it! Handsome Jack was Rhys’ hero, and he was everywhere in this house.

Suddenly, Rhys felt disgusted with himself. Not for the gift and the party event, but for ever believing in that stupid, egomaniac asshole. Filled with rage, Rhys tore a poster down, and it felt so good that he did it to every single one of them, and then crumpled them, tore them to pieces and stumped on the pieces. He added an angry scream in the paper’s direction, but it wasn’t enough.

Just as Rhys stormed into his kitchen with the intention to get rid of all the memorabilia there, the doorbell rang. He didn’t even bother making himself look more presentable when he opened the door, thinking that whoever was there doesn’t deserve him at his best.

“Rhys…” Hugo looked down at him, face unreadable. He went silent, then, just contemplating him. “I heard about the fiasco at the birthday event,” he added after a while.

Rhys closed his eyes. He couldn’t do this right now. Hugo was… Interacting with Hugo Vasquez always cost him energy. An energy he was more than willing to give, but he didn’t have anything left in him right now. “Hugo, this is not the right time,” he said carefully. “See you tomorrow in the office?” Even though he was higher on the corporate ladder, Hugo didn’t get to Handsome Jack’ birthday party this year, and Rhys suspected that he was a little jealous. As if their relationship wasn’t unstable enough.

The thing was that Hugo was _someone_. He was charismatic, tall, good at his job. Rhys was just… Rhys. A poor boy that made it to a good school, got good internship and then a poor middle management job. He didn’t know how he got so lucky that Hugo decided to date him, but he knew that he’ll run out of luck one day, become boring. He lived with that knowledge and decided to enjoy the relationship while it lasted. If he tried to spend time with Hugo now, in his pathetic state, it surely wouldn’t last much longer.

“I brought ice-cream,” Hugo said suddenly.

Rhys bit his lip. How did Hugo know that he likes ice-cream? He never got it when he was with him, because Hugo already ate so healthy compared to Rhys, he felt dumb. Did Hugo see him stuffing his face with sweets on some day when he was out with Vaughn? Was he so disgusted with him that he didn’t even come say hi to him when he saw him?

“You do like ice-cream, right?” the older man asked, a hint of insecurity creeping into his otherwise always steady voice. “Every time we walk past that ice-cream parlour in the Hub, you look at it. I figured you refused to get it when I offered because it gets messy, so I bought a bucket of it. Even if it melts, you’ll be clean.”

Ah, that thing… Hugo thought that Rhys has some kind of weird obsession with being clean. The truth was, he always took a shower after sex because he didn’t want to be disgusting to the other man in the morning, and also to give Hugo a chance to subtly tell him to get the fuck out of his house in case he changed his mind about Rhys staying over. This basically meant that Rhys lied. Oh God, what if Hugo figures out?

“Rhys?”

Oh God, oh God, he had been quiet for so long. That was incredibly rude, how could he— He _has to_ say something. Something smart, witty. Hugo likes his jokes and the sassy side of him, or he says so. He has to—

But the only thing that came out of his mouth was a stuttered mumble, and even Rhys wasn’t sure what he was trying to say.

“What? Never mind. How about you let me in, Rhys? People are staring…” He was right, of course. Many people in the corridor were staring at Rhys. He quickly took a step back, allowing Hugo to step in and close the door.

Rhys hated having Hugo here. His apartment was small and full of that asshole face; Hugo’s was big and luxurious. He watched as the older man’s eyes skimmed the small space and stopped on one of the mugs he was about to… smash? God, that was pathetic.

“Ah, you were making tea? Good choice – it helps you relax. Sit down, and I’ll make you some nice black tea.” He moved in the kitchen like he knew it. The first time he was there he hit his toe on a cupboard edge while trying to get a glass of water in the darkness. He got better after making a dinner for Rhys in there a few weeks ago.

Dumbfounded and exhausted, Rhys sat down on his sofa and stared at Hugo. He knew he should say something, but his head was empty. Silence stretched in the room, only broken by clanking and water boiling, until finally, Hugo spoke.

“You seem quiet. How do you feel?”

“Good,” Rhys answered without hesitation. Hugo seemed always happy with his life, and he wanted to be exactly like him. But the older man sighed and shook his head, looking down at Rhys with what could only be read as disappointment. Did he know it was a lie? Of course he did. And now he will—

Hugo sat down next to him, turning in the seat so he could face him. He was holding something in his hand, a small bucket of mint and chocolate ice-cream and a spoon. “Here, you’ll feel better,” he pushed the things into Rhys’ hand, face once more unreadable.

Rhys managed to stutter a thank you as he opened the box. He dug in, scooping a big piece of his absolutely favourite sweet, but then he stopped himself, remembering the softness of his stomach. Hugo was muscular and strong. Rhys’ stomach suddenly seemed to be too big to fit his clothes, especially the tight-fitting suit he wore today. When the cold sweetness met his lips, he only nibbled at it, taking the smallest bite.

“You… You don’t like ice-cream,” Hugo noted next to him. “Don’t force yourself, Rhys. I was wrong, sorry, must’ve misread you. That was stupid, sorry.” He reached for the ice-cream, but Rhys stopped him.

“No! I mean… No, I like ice-cream. This is, uhm, actually my favourite flavour. How did you know?” He dares one sheepish look, but he still doesn’t find any hint in the other man’s face.

“Well, I had no idea, so I just took my favourite,” Hugo shrugs.

Hugo likes ice-cream? It clicked in Rhys’ head, and now he felt like even more of an idiot. He took another bite, but it just didn’t taste right with the other man next to him.

Carefully putting the sweet down, Rhys turned to face his boyfriend. He still couldn’t figure him out, but he had an idea. Hugo jokingly mentioned a romantic dinner and a celebration yesterday, which probably meant he wanted one thing.

A cybernetic hand gently stroked a thigh clad in expensive and good-fitting slacks. It moved higher, and Rhys put on a coy smile. “So, now that you are here, we can move onto the celebration?” He moved the hand higher until he was just shy of the other man’s crotch. “You bought me my favourite ice-cream. Let me say thank you.”

When he pushed the hand the final inch, Rhys frowned. Hugo wasn’t interested at all, and that was the first time in their relationship. This must be the point when they break up. When Rhys can’t even give this to the older man, what does he have to give?

“Not today, Rhys,” Hugo said quietly, gingerly moving Rhys’ hand back to his own lap. “This is not the right time.” Sighing he started rubbing his face, but Rhys couldn’t see it, because his face was burning in shame and he couldn’t even look up. “Look… I’m not good at this. I’m good at business, at impressing people, knowing a good project from a bad one, but I can’t take proper care of you.”

Is this his way of saying that Rhys is too emotional for him? It must be. Rhys made sure Hugo never saw him crying, but he couldn’t stop it now. “It’s alright,” he said quietly. “You can… I understand. You can go.”

“What?!” Now it sounded like fear in Hugo’s voice, and Rhys had never met that emotion in him. He carefully looked up, only to see his shocked face. “You-you… You want me to go? I… I mean, I will if you want, but please, give me a chance, Rhys!”

_What?_

The cyborg blinked multiple time, but he couldn’t make a sense of things. It almost looked like Hugo wasn’t breaking up with him. Like he thought Rhys is sending him away!

“You… You didn’t mean to break up with me?” he asked carefully, his voice hoarse, sniffy and disgusting.

“No! Rhys, I… I don’t… I’m not sure how love is supposed to feel, because I never experienced anything like that before, but if I am even capable of loving someone, then I’m sure I love you! I love you, Rhys.”

But his mind couldn’t accept it, not yet, and so Rhys asked: “So, you don’t mind that I’m fat and emotional?”

“Fat?!” Hugo asked with barely concealed anger. “You are skinny as hell! Who told you that? And emo— Rhys, I love this side of you. I wish I could express my emotions like you can, but it just isn’t my thing. I get confused in my own feelings, and so I shut myself off, and then I get scared that I hurt you when you look away from me to hide whatever is on your face… I… Rhys?”

He didn’t realise that he is crying again until he was sobbing. Hugo was frozen to place for a few more seconds, and then he pulled him into a hug. Rhys started babbling – stupid things about how much he loves Hugo, and he wants to be like him, and he will get better, he can promise. The older man stroked his back somewhat gingerly, murmuring that he can’t change, that he loves this Rhys and only this.

Long time later, when all tears were soaked into either of their expensive suits, Rhys sniffled for the last time and pulled away. He felt dumb and he needed to say it.

“I’m sorry, Hugo,” he said. “I should have spoke to you more openly. Right?”

“We can start talking openly now,” the other man smiled. “Right after we get you into something more comfortable and get all that ice-cream into you.”

He wasn’t joking. After he helped Rhys change into his sleep shirt and pants, and wrapped him in a fluffy blanket, he pushed the melting ice-cream in his hands and insisted Rhys eats until he forgets everything that happened at the party. He got another spoon and stole a little from him, and Rhys loved the sight. He especially loved when a bit of ice cream got stuck on Hugo’s beard, and he could kiss it away carefully.

Rhys doesn’t have TV, so Hugo played some cheap soap on his comm. They laughed at the irrationally acting characters and the exaggerated drama until all the ice-cream was gone. Then Hugo suddenly pushed Rhys on his back, but he shied away when Rhys tried to wrap his legs around his waist.

Moving lower, Hugo kissed a trail from his collarbone to his stomach, where he pushed his shirt up to plant more kisses. His beard tickled, and Rhys started giggling and squirming.

“Oh, what is that?” Hugo teased, purposefully tickling him more.

“Stop it!” the younger man gasped. “That tickles! Stop, Hugo, please!”

“Hmm, and what do I get in return?” he mused, moving the ministrations lower where the skin was even more sensitive.

“Anything!”

“Okay.” He finally moved his face away and started crawling higher, until he was leaning over Rhys’ face. “Now I want a kiss. And no excuses – you said anything.”

They both laughed and kissed. Gradually, all remaining tension left Rhys as he leaned into the slow but deep kiss. Screw Handsome Jack! He has Hugo Vasquez wrapped on his little finger. What else could he possibly need?

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow me on Twitter and tell me what you think of this story in the comments. It makes my day. :)


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